


you can't stay mad at knives

by kismetNemesis



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:25:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8620855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kismetNemesis/pseuds/kismetNemesis
Summary: Like three PM is actually a pretty good time to come out to Magnus.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, yep, I wrote another "Angus comes out" fic. The first one is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8481871), but you don't really need to read it first to get this one.

You’re carving a present for Merle when you hear a knock on the middle of your door. You do some quick height math and shove your in-progress rosewood rose (so sue you, it’s a plant) under your thigh, which actually kind of hurts. 

“Come in!” you call, and only then does it occur to you that you could have waited, like, a minute and just put the carving away properly. Oops.

The door opens slowly to reveal not Merle but Angus McDonald, who is actually much taller than Merle at this point. Your knock echolocation may be just slightly off. 

“Are you the lamp repair person?” you ask, grinning. Angus rolls his eyes but you can tell he’s fighting a tiny smile.

“No, sir, it’s me Angus McDonald boy detective and your friend. And I don’t even need to be a detective to see that your lamp is working fine.”

“Oh, you caught me,” you concede. “I guess you are the world’s greatest detective. Come in, Ango, what can I help you with? Being less of a goober?”

“Apparently that’s incurable!” he replies cheerfully, setting his bag down on the table. “No, I just wanted to say something...” 

“Then say something.” Inexplicably, he looks like he did when he was ten and you would try to lose him in crowds: lonely, resigned, a little lost. He’s since gained a lot of confidence, so you have no clue what’s making him frowny-face at this moment. 

“What were you carving?” he asks suddenly, pointing at the wood shavings on your table accusatorily. “Where is it?”

“Chill out, dude! I was making this for Merle,” you say, pulling the rose out from under your leg. “I thought it might be him coming in, so I hid it.”

“Oh.” Angus deflates a little, or maybe relaxes. You’re not great at reading him, or reading anyone, actually. As a result your tactic is to err on the side of as many hugs as possible. Merle generally seems to like it, and Taako is very vocal about whether or not he wants you to touch him, which you appreciate. Angus’s main constructive criticism is that you do it too hard, which, you’ve made your bed and you’re gonna lie in it.

“Do you want a hug, kiddo?”

“Oh! I have literally no idea why you’re offering, but okay?” 

You set the rose down on the table and come around to hug him. He really is getting tall, but he’s still a beanpole, and you’ve carved things that are heavier than him. You squeeze and he makes kind of a choking slash dying noise. Good ol’ Ango.

“Pretty good hug, sir,” he wheezes once you let him go. “You sure there’s no occasion?”

“You tell me,” you say in what you hope is an enigmatic voice. “Say something.”

“Oh, right.” He’s back to looking distressed, damn it. You make to hug him again and he holds up his hands to stop you. “One is quite enough! Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “I have something to tell you but I don’t know if I’m up for it yet. So I’m gonna go.”

“You don’t have to go!” you say quickly. “There are options besides saying a thing and just leaving. Such as... do you want me to teach you how to carve wood?”

His face lights up. Bazingo! 

“Oh, yes, very much, sir! I love to learn!” You snort. He doesn’t so much as blink. 

“Nerd. Alright, well, sit yourself down, kid.”

He sits himself down and very patiently listens as you explain the basics: how to hold the knife, how to carve with the grain, how not to cut towards himself and get stabbed in the finger or chest like you did countless times when you were starting out. It’s actually nice to teach this to someone who will listen, though you try to stop him from actually taking notes.

“I’m a language-based learner,” he protests. 

“This isn’t about steps or dates or anything. Each piece is different.”

“I just want to write down not to stab myself in the finger.”

“If you need a reminder for that, fine by me, I guess.”

Slowly he gets the hang of it. You don’t know if he’s ever done something crafty (in the sense of arts and crafts) before, though Merle has been mumbling about teaching everyone to knit. It’s like riding a fantasy bicycle, though, once you get into the mindset it’s easy. You tell him so.

“Thanks. Don’t tell him I said this, but you’re a much better teacher than Taako, sir.” You gasp and put one hand over your mouth.

“Angus McDonald! You incurable gossip.” He giggles. 

“Taako’s not all bad, though,” he adds, a perfect curl of wood falling off the lump he’s carving. “He’s not even a little bit bad, I don’t think.”

“Don’t tell him I said it, either, but he is pretty good. Best wizard you can get. At our pay grade.” Both of you are smiling more fondly than your words imply. You don’t know why you haven’t gotten Angus to carve with you before.

“He, um,” begins Angus. When you look up, you see that he’s put down his carving and is staring wide-eyed at you instead. “He was really helpful to me the other day.”

“Oh yeah?”

“So I told him I was gay and he said ‘Thank god, I couldn’t take you being straight AND wearing sweater vests all the time.’ Which was a joke that helped to defuse the tension very much? Kind of a gentle ribbing that showed me he accepted me?” Angus is talking very fast. 

“Was that what you wanted to tell me?” He nods, soft and quick. 

“Well, I think that’s great! I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me, too.” This is an unusual level of sincerity from you, but you think the look of relief on his face is worth it. 

“Can I- can I ask you a question, though?” 

“Shoot.” He takes a second to formulate the question, and you pretend to grab at his notes. “Do you want me to write down the answer, language-based learner?”

“ _No_ ,” he scoffs. “But so, um, is it weird that I’m only just figuring this out now? Should I have always known?”

“Listen,” you say. “I’m kind of a learn-by-doing guy, so I’m gonna show you something, alright?” Once he nods, you grab the rose you were carving earlier and his unfinished lump of wood and hold them up side by side. “You see these?”

“You’re kinda shoving them in my face, yes.”

“Good. Okay, so, they look pretty different, right? But they started as the same thing. This rose became more and more like a rose as I carved it.”

“Mmhm.”

“Things change over time. _People_ change over time. There’s no way to tell if this is gonna become a rose at first, but eventually it gets pretty obvious. I know it’s cheesy, but someone important to me taught me this the same way once. Only he made me carve the finished project first, which was kind of bullshit.” You say this, treading carefully around your memories of Steven. You think crying in the middle of a lesson would probably downgrade you to the Taako level of bad teacher. 

“It’s a metaphor,” says Angus. 

“Yup.”

“It... makes a surprising amount of sense.”

“Surprising? Ango, you wound me.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“So, y’know. I was the same way, when I realized I was bi. You’re not alone.” He’s definitely surprised to hear that you’re bi, but he doesn’t say anything. You love this kid so goddamn much. You can’t resist giving him another hug across the table.

“Love you, Magnus!” he says into your sleeve.

“Love you too!”

You free him, and he stands up and grabs his bag.

“I’ve gotta go do some work now,” he explains. It’s a statement you’re able take a lot more seriously now that he’s older than ten. “Thank you for the lesson!”

“You should buy a knife, they’re a dime a dozen at the Costco. Can’t believe they’ll sell small children knives but not dogs.”

“Will do!” He gives you kind of a weird salute before he heads out. 

You settle back into carving. You think you’ll make something for him next.

**Author's Note:**

> I love my son and I think he's getting better at this.


End file.
